Annabeth in Wonderland
by Sunless Skies
Summary: Annabeth falls down a rabbit hole. But if she's honest, the rest is a little blurry. Reality, dreams, and terrible nightmares blur together leaving her confused as to which way is up and which way is down. Annabeth/Reyna, Reynabeth, Femslash
1. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Annabeth in Wonderland**

**Chapter One: Down the Rabbit Hole **

**Pairing: Annabeth/Reyna **

**Summary: Annabeth falls down a rabbit hole. But if she's honest, the rest is a little blurry. Reality, dreams, and terrible nightmares blur together leaving her confused as to which way is up and which way is down. **

**A.N: Yeah, I got this idea in July and I finally got around to writing it. I hope that you enjoy this odd, whimsical brainchild of mine, though I do warn you, it gets significantly darker in the other two chapters. Yes, this is three chapters and THEY ARE ALL WRITTEN NO NEED TO WORRY ABOUT ME NOT POSTING THEM! I'm going to post one a week for the next three weeks. On Friday. The Friday is Reynabeth in Wonderland day now. **

**Enjoy, my friends. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own pjo or hoo. I don't own Lewis Carol's _Alice in Wonderland. _I do not own this lyric from C'mon by Panic! at the Disco featuring fun. I do not own the two quotes lifted verbatim from pjo and from Alice in Wonderland. I own my laptop, the pepsi that I am currently drinking and I own this fic but this fic is worth no money and I am receiving no financial gain from it. Thank you, now enjoy.**

* * *

_Feels like I am falling down a rabbit hole  
Falling for forever, wonderfully wandering alone_

* * *

Annabeth remembers falling. If she's honest, though, the rest is a little blurry. She remembers tumbling through the air, laws of gravity be damned, and landing in this strange little room. Before that she remembers wandering into the woods, and tripping, falling into an infinite rabbit hole. It seems cozy, like a hobbit hole, but also mysterious and a little bit sinister. The floor has been covered in wood, yet tree roots peak through the dark, brown, earthen, walls. Sunlight shines down from the hole so far above her and she looks around the room. There is a small hole at the bottom of one of the walls, and a small, wooden table sits in the corner. On top of the table sit two vials of neon-colored liquids. They both have white, sticky labels with bold, black print. While one says "grow" the other says "shrink".

Annabeth surveys the room and sighs. The only exits are the one above her and the mouse hole, neither of which are plausible for her use. Annabeth feels uncomfortable, for some reason she feels like she always has a plan, and this feeling of uncertainty makes her very uncomfortable. She considers her two other options- drinking either of the vials. Now, if Annabeth were to drink the _grow _vial, she might grow too large for the hole and get stuck, which would be altogether unpleasant. Annabeth considers the consequences of shrinking to the size of a mouse, assuming that is what would happen if she were to drink the purplish pink liquid. She might shrink smaller than she intends, which would certainly be a downside. She may also get eaten by something larger than she is wherever this door may lead her, but anything seems preferable to dying of starvation in this hole. She picks up the magenta vial and gulps it down all at once.

It tastes odd, like strawberries and cookies, cheese and grass. It's an entirely terrible taste, and when she comes back to herself, she realizes that she is very, very small, much smaller than a mouse. _How curious._ Across the room, which suddenly seems a great hall as opposed to a small room, she sees light peeking out of the small door. She walks towards it and hopes to god that a bird of prey doesn't await her on the other side.

* * *

Annabeth steps into the sunlight, and is greeted by blades of grass taller than she. She pushes her way through them, like some sort of jungle explorer in uncharted territory. She puts her hands to her sides, wishing in vain that her little blue dress had pockets. The sun shines brightly down on Annabeth's skin while cotton ball clouds float across the sky. She hums a gentle and jovial song of which she only vaguely remembers the melody and walks further and further into the meadow.

After what seems like an eternity of walking, Annabeth is covered in shadows as the high above trees obstruct the sun's rays. She is now starting to walk through the woods, and she hears the cries of various different animals: a bird, a cat, and something that she can't quite identify. She pushes away the slight fear and heads deeper and deeper into the interesting forest.

* * *

She comes to a clearing, with a small pond, a puddle really, that seems like a vast ocean to the now tiny Annabeth. Across the way, she sees an enormous, blue water-beetle sitting on a large mushroom like a throne. At the bottom of the mushroom grow many smaller mushrooms of two differing colors: pink and blue. Annabeth took a few steps closer to the fungi throne.

"Who are you," the water beetle says, an accusation as opposed to a question.

"Who are you?" Annabeth demands in response. As a general rule, she is fairly certain she doesn't allow herself to be bossed about by insects.

"Who is anyone?" the caterpillar asks, rhetorically, "It's all about perception. I think that I am a water-beetle caught on the crossroads of Wonderland. Who are you?"

"Why, I'm Annabeth," she says, quite confused by the direction this conversation was heading.

"And what does that mean?" asks the beetle.

"It means, why it means that I'm me," Annabeth huffs in exasperation.

"What does that mean?" asks the insect, fiddling with its own fingers, or whatever the caterpillar equivalent may be, "what composes one's self? Their personality traits? Their body? Their likes and dislikes? Their memories? Do you remember anything, Annabeth?"

"I remember falling down a rabbit hole," she replies firmly, "and I remember getting here."

The beetle sends her a devious smile, "I suppose you aren't anyone at all, then."

"I am," Annabeth says, a ball of fiery rage building in the pit of her stomach, "I'm Annabeth. I'm a person, a damned important one as well. I'm simply a bit confused. I've changed sizes you see, and that can be a bit disorienting."

"You're in the right place, then," the water-beetle replies off handedly, "these mushrooms will change your size."

"Really?" Annabeth asks, her face lighting up.

"Why, yes," he says, "but I don't think changing sizes will tell you who you are."

"I know who I am!" Annabeth shouts in exasperation, "just leave me alone."

"Never," he says, his green eyes twinkling like he'd just unveiled some incredible secret. She found herself fighting an odd urge to call the creature an odd name.

She feels a sudden touch of sadness, as if the beetle had reminded her of someone she once knew, but tells him, "Go away, unless you care to start being reasonable."

"Fine," he says, somehow managing to sound wistful, "goodbye, Annabeth. And remember." He crawls off the mushroom and away from her. For a moment, she thanks her stars that she has gotten rid of him and his stupid, cryptic comments, until she remembers that she doesn't know which mushrooms are which. She feels like kicking herself for being so stupid. She looks to the mushrooms, blue and pink, and considers which one she should try. She decides on the pink, and plucks a head-sized pink mushroom from the pile. She takes a small bite, and shoots skyward. Within moments, she is her normal size, but she shoots beyond that, stopping when her height is even with the trees. She lets out a frustrated groan and sits down on the ground, trying to survey for the mushrooms, but she doesn't find them. They're too small, or she's too big. If nothing else, Annabeth has a more accurate view of perspective after having been all these different sizes.

She clutches the mushroom tighter, and takes a guess. She pops the now tiny mushroom into her mouth, hoping for the best. A few moments later, she is once again her correct size, and she almost sings with joy. She no longer has to worry about stray birds carting her off as a tasty snack. She lets out a sigh of relief and walks deeper into the slightly ominous and other-worldly forest.

* * *

Annabeth walks through the woods. She feels more confident in herself since having returned to her normal size. The trees seem fairly normal, deciduous, all around the same size. It seems odd for such a fantastical place to have such average trees with such mundane foliage, but Annabeth supposes that sizing-changing mushrooms are strange enough vegetation to compensate. The girl hears small twigs snap underneath her shoes as she treads the slightly worn path between the trees. She begins to think of the strange things that she has seen, and how any of it can be possible.

Before Annabeth has even completed her first thought, she sees something strange on the horizon. A lone figure stands in the shadows. She considers turning back, but her curiosity gets the better of her. Plus, her pride would be broken if she turned back because of a single figure. That's cowardly, and she's fairly certain that though she is a lot of things, a coward isn't one of them. She wishes that her memories weren't so foggy, but continues walking towards the figure anyway. Maybe he could give her directions, she is terribly lost.

When she's a little closer, Annabeth realizes that the figure is in fact a young boy. He seems small, maybe ten to twelve. He's clothed in black, in contrast to his snow colored skin. He tilts his head towards her and smiles a small smile. His black eyes, like shattered glass stare back at her.

"Who are you?" Annabeth asks, refusing to be beat to the question this time.

"Isn't that a question," he muses, a hint of humor reaching his eyes, "I suppose I'm an echo."

Annabeth groans, "Why don't any of you people make any sense?"

He looks at her seriously, "That's the thing about memories and dreams; they never happen in the right order. Especially when you mix the two together, that's nasty business. The inconsistency of a dream mixed with the vague feelings of a memory. That'll leave you wondering which way is up and which is down. I suppose you're experiencing one hell of a mindfuck right now. An echo isn't too much different, I suppose. It gets distorted on the way back. Never quite the way it was when you left it."

"I repeat," she says, "you people make no sense what-so-ever." She tries to analyze the boy's words, but they're so scattered and nonsensical that she gives up her attempt.

"We're all mad here," he says with a small grin, as if sharing an inside joke with himself.

"Except the queen, of course," he amends, "but she's borderline. Though, she might cross that threshold any day now. She's been threatening to behead people left and right." She takes a moment to compose herself and make sure that she doesn't kill the annoying boy who could possibly be her only hope of finding her way.

"I'm a bit lost," she says, though her irritation spills through into her tone, "do you know which way I should go?"

"That depends on where you want to go to," he says, "destination is key."

"I don't know where I want to go," she says, "I don't understand where I am."

"You'll still be lost wherever I send you," he says nonchalantly, "You'll just be lost _there_."

"It's better than being lost _here_," she says, "at least it would be different."

"Different, you say?" he replies, "I know the perfect place for you. He points his hand to the right.

"Go right for a few miles," he says, "you can't miss it."

"Thank you," she forces out, though the boy had been more a hindrance than a help. He sends her a small smile, and his body starts to fade into the shadows, until only the whites of his eyes and his broken irises remained.

* * *

Annabeth walks further through the timberland, time blurring together along with the scene. Shortly later, she arrives in a small clearing. In the middle sits a table, covered by a white table cloth, chairs. Two people sit in said chairs. A gorgeous girl with tanned skin in a large, purple top hat holds a teacup while another boy with curly, black, hair and black rabbit's ears pours a strange looking pop into her cup.

"Erm," Annabeth says, "hello." The girl turns to her and Annabeth gets a slightly different view of her hat. On the base sits a small sheet of paper that reads 10/6.

"Hello," the girl replies in a cheerful tone, "go ahead. Take a seat." There are many open chairs at the vast table, and Annabeth sits down on one right beside the girl.

"Would you like some pop?" the girl asks, gesturing to the table. Various two liter bottles of all sorts of soda pops litter the table, along with teacups, pieces of popcorn, and discarded candy-bar wrappers.

"Pepsi, please," Annabeth says. She grabs a cookie from the table and sets in on her plate. The girl plucks in off and Annabeth glares at her in response. The girl just grins, her polychromatic eyes twinkling.

"All out of that," the boy replies.

"Coke?" asks Annabeth. Surely they have Coke, she thinks.

"Nope," says the girl.

"Doctor Pepper?" she asks. The boy shakes his head.

"Mountain Dew?" she asks. The girl shakes her head.

"Root beer?" she asks in a last ditch effort.

"None," says the girl.

"What do you have?" she asks.

"Every flavor," the boy replies, a grin spanning his face.

"Then why did you make me list them all? Annabeth asks in irritation.

"No," the boy said, "all the flavors are mixed together."

"I'm afraid I'll have to pass," she says.

"Are you certain?' the girl asks, a mad grin on her face, "it's like an explosion of flavor in your mouth, feeling everything in the world at once." She pours Annabeth a teacup of soda anyway.

"I think I quite like to keep things separate," she says, "can't be happy and sad at the same time."

"But that's exactly what you are now," the girl replies, a serious look on her face. For a moment, Annabeth thinks that she might not be quite so mad after all. Then, she spoils everything.

"Frank," she shouts, "we have a guest!" A small, brown mouse stirs inside of the mad girl's teacup and then waves at her.  
"Y-y-you have a mouse," Annabeth says, in a state of shock, though honestly she shouldn't be shocked by anything at this point, "a mouse. In your teacup."

"He's not really a mouse," the mad hatted girl says in response, "Frank's only sometimes a mouse."  
"Then what is he normally," Annabeth asks.

"Frank can be whatever he wants to be," the girl replies as if that were actually an answer to Annabeth's question.

"What time is it, anyway," Annabeth asks, suddenly quite curious as to how much time she might have spent in this mad world.

"Nine in the afternoon," the rabbit-eared boy says immediately.

"What? There's no such time," Annabeth says in confusion.

The girl turns to Annabeth, "Of course there's such a time. It is right now."

Annabeth glares at her and then the boy chimes in.

"It's always nine in the afternoon," says Leo, "that's what happens when you piss off time-he'll set you up in a loop. Can't get out of it 'cause it didn't exist beforehand."

"That's actually kind of sad," Annabeth replies.

Piper replies "It's not so bad, really, If I could write time myself, I wouldn't have it any differently. My best friends, pop, chocolate- I could do with a few more visitors, though. You're terribly dull."

Annabeth glares at her, "Did you just call me boring?"

"Yes," Piper says, "you haven't said an interesting thing since you got here. It's not your fault, you just aren't mad enough. You're still grounded in reality, and that's ever so boring. It's just so mundane."

"You're calling me boring?" Annabeth huffs, "I'll have you know," and the exciting exploits Annabeth was going to name faded from her brain. Her memories were all befuddled and she couldn't remember the thing she was going to say in the first place.

"I could out mad you," Annabeth says.

"No you couldn't," the girl replies, her multicolored eyes sparkling, a nice contrast against the purple eye make-up, "no one can out mad a hatter."

Annabeth starts to reply, "I don't think-"

"Then don't talk," Leo said, laughing. Piper laughs as well, patting him on the back. Annabeth glares at them, and then grabs her teacup.

"Fine," she says, "I certainly can't out mad you, but that's not a bad thing. Enjoy your day." She pours the mixture of various pops onto the tablecloth as she stalks away from the mad company.

* * *

She exits the clearing in a frustrated huff and reenters the forestland in the hopes of finding some sort of sense. Instead of sense, though, she once again finds the shadow boy. He pops out of the shadow of a tree.

"Hello, again," he says and Annabeth nearly hops out of her skin.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack," she says, "you just materialized out of nowhere."

"Not nowhere, per say" he says, "I had to have been somewhere, it just wasn't a somewhere you knew about."

He is still the same insufferable boy he was the last time that she had met him.

"Is there a reason you jumped out at me?" she demands.

"The queen demands you come see her," he says, "you've been causing quite a ruckus: changing sizes, squashing poor creatures underfoot, and ruining a very important tea party."  
"I didn't ruin anything," Annabeth mutters, "and what do you mean the queen wants to see me?"

"The queen of hearts," he says, "ruler of Wonderland, she's taken quite an interest in you. She finds you _curious." _

"How do I find her?" she asks, "I don't understand how anything works in this godforsaken place." She's not even sure that she _wants _to find her, what, with all this beheading nonsense.

"A passageway will open from this tree to the palace," he says, "good luck, Annabeth." He fades to black. A staircase opens from the tree, and she steps inside. Annabeth forgets to wonder how he knew her name.


	2. The Lonely Queen of Hearts

**Annabeth in Wonderland**

**Chapter Two: The Lonely Queen of Hearts **

**A.N: HAPPY FRIDAY! There is one more chapter of this fic, and I hope you guys have been enjoying it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the selected quote from Beyonce's Beautiful Nightmare. **

* * *

_You can be a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare_

_Either way I don't wanna wake up from you_

Annabeth runs her hand against the wall of the tunnel. It's pitch black, and she occasionally bangs her foot on one of the stairs. She wishes that she had a flashlight, or perhaps a torch like in _Indiana Jones. _Even a cellphone to light her way would be helpful. The staircase is long and winding, and twists and turns many times before she finally sees the light at the end. She silently smiles because she's _Annabeth Chase _and she hasn't let this crazy fucking world get her down yet. And she won't. She continues to climb the endless staircase until she emerges and is bathed in sunlight.

She looks around the courtyard. The floor is covered by a carpet of green grass. Thorny, red, rose bushes border imposing stone walls that surround the premise. Silent, stone guards protect the citizens from the outside world, or possibly, Annabeth thinks, keep them in. On the opposite side of where Annabeth entered, large towers jut out of the walls. She feels a light tapping on her shoulder and turns abruptly around. Behind her stands a human sized playing card. A human head with a skin-tone unnaturally white juts out the top. She has deep, black, hair and red lips, but seems timid.

"Um, hello," she says, tapping her gloved hand on the edge of her playing-card body, "the queen, she, she demands an audience with you." A fire blazes inside Annabeth. She _demands, _does she? Annabeth thinks about leaving, but the doorway through which she had entered the garden has disappeared. She internally groans, but allows herself to be led to wherever this "queen" awaits her.

* * *

What seems like moments later she arrives in a small room with gray stone walls. There is a small wooden table with two white mugs covered in hearts. A regal woman in a black and red heart spangled dress and a golden crown sits in one of the chairs.

She inclines her head towards Annabeth and says, "Take a seat." It takes Annabeth a moment to realize that she means her, and she considers bolting. But the woman doesn't seem malicious or anywhere near as bonkers as the other people she's met in this mad world, so she sits down opposite the queen.

"Um, hello," Annabeth says, because she's not entirely certain what's protocol upon greeting a queen. She's not quite sure that she's ever met one before. But then again, the world queen arouses negative feelings within her. Maybe she has and it wasn't a pleasant experience?

"Well, hello, Annabeth," the queen says, "I've heard a lot about you. Ruining tea parties, changing sizes and squashing poor bugs, you've left quite the trail of wreckage in your wake."

Well, maybe it isn't her smartest idea, but Annabeth feels that if her pride is brought into question she doesn't make her best decisions. Instead of doing the sensible thing and holding her tongue, she retorts, "And I've heard you're a bit crazy. Gone a bit mad with power," lie, she hadn't heard that, "And you've been beheading people. Fine queen you make."

For a moment, the queen looks like she's about respond with something nasty, but she stops and lets out a laugh instead.

"Threatened to," she says, "I've never actually beheaded anyone." The yet was left unsaid, or at least that's what Annabeth picked up from the moment of silence.

"Besides," she continues, "I don't think that I've gone power-mad, but I suppose that I'm a bit biased." Annabeth gives her a funny look.

"Would you like some hot chocolate?" the queen asks, gesturing to the heart patterned mugs on the table.

"Sure," Annabeth responds, before releasing that might have been a bit rude.

"Thank you," she quickly amends before taking a sip of the liquid in front of her.

They prattle on a while longer, about the most random things.

Annabeth slowly lets down her defenses as they sip hot chocolate and laugh before Annabeth asks, "What exactly am I supposed to call you? The queen? Your highness? I'm not exactly well-versed on this procedure."

"Reyna," she says, with a smile that lights up her face but doesn't quite reach her eyes, "call me Reyna." And that's when Annabeth realizes she is on first name basis with the queen and that she is completely fine with that.

* * *

She doesn't much remember going outside, but soon they're wandering through the labyrinthine rose bushes. Annabeth sees a dark figure around a corner, but Reyna doesn't notice it. She assumes that it is nothing, just an odd specter like the ghosts that wander the halls of the palace.

"So how did you get to Wonderland, anyway?" Reyna asks her, examining her lightly, "I've never met someone who hasn't lived here their entire life."  
"I fell down a rabbit hole," Annabeth says, "It's all a bit fuzzy, but I remember that for certain." Annabeth looks around the area. The thorny bushes wrap around them like ivy and the red flowers protrude from them like ornaments on a Christmas tree. Annabeth rifles through her brain for questions she might want to ask the woman.

"So how long have you been queen?" asks Annabeth.

Reyna looks thoughtful for a moment, before she says, "I don't honestly remember. It's been a long time."

Under different circumstances, Annabeth might have found that strange, but considering the gaping holes in her memory, she just lets it lie.

Reyna continues, "It's not quite all it's cracked up to be. There's a lot of work involved, and-" But whatever Reyna was about to say died on her lips. Annabeth wonders if the queen is experiencing a case of Presque vu, but decides against it when she sees the slightly pained and nervous look in her eyes.

"Being queen's lonely," Annabeth thinks, "She must drive everyone away. She's afraid she'll drive me away too." Annabeth gently clasps Reyna's hand and the monarch sends her a funny look. Annabeth just smiles at her and they consider their stroll through the gardens. She can hear Reyna humming a tune that she only half remembers the lyrics to. She feels as though she might float away with the melody and end up passing like smoke through this Wonderland, but Reyna's hand keeps her anchored to the ground and that strange, beautiful reality.

* * *

_Annabeth! _

_Monsters snarls and tortured cries, Annabeth! _

_Darkness and sulfurous skies, Annabeth! _

_Annabeth, Annabeth! _

**_Wake up!_**

* * *

Annabeth jolts awake in her large, soft bed. The sunshine is gentling creeping in through her red curtains. She takes a deep breath and grasps her comforter. She lets out a sigh of relief because she's back in her own world. It might be a bit mad, but in a pleasant way, not at all like the nightmare she just experienced. Annabeth stretches her arm out and her hand collides with Reyna's. Funny, she'd forgotten that they shared a bed now. Annabeth curls up beside her, and she is plagued by nightmares no more.

* * *

Later, they wander about the castle for sees the dark figure once again, and she tries to shove it to the darkest corner of her mind, along with her nightmare. Reyna attends to her royal duties. Something about sorting through a marriage disagreement between a dish and a spoon. Annabeth helps, and she feels as though she's becoming an advisor of sorts. That's not bad at all, helping Reyna run the kingdom. Reyna hasn't threatened to behead even one playing-card servant, which Annabeth thinks must be quite an accomplishment if her reputation is to be believed. Everything is quite lovely: hot chocolate, talking and wandering with a woman she's coming to care for.

_Maybe even love, _a voice inside her teases. Annabeth doesn't know what else she could ask for.

* * *

The days blur together: teatime, court disputes, royal duties, strolls, nightmares, and kissing. Her queen's eyes don't seem vacant anymore. No longer are they void-like, instead, they glitter with happiness. They're now a warm, comforting color instead of a dull, matte shade. Annabeth starts thinking of how to improve the castle design increase its grandeur and ensure that it will last a thousand years. She isn't sure where the desire stems from, but she desperately wants to build something permanent.

Her nightmares lurk in the back of her mind, and she can almost feel something that she's supposed to remember. But Annabeth suppresses it. She wants whatever it is to die, though she can't quite kill her curiosity about the dark figure stalking her from the shadows. She pushes it back into her mind, hopefully deep enough that it won't resurface for some time, and she goes to meet Reyna in her chambers.

* * *

_Monstrous hissing is all Annabeth remembers when she jolts awake with a scream. _Reyna tries to comfort her, and they end up curled up together even more than is usual. Huddled together to keep away Annabeth's imagined demons.

* * *

They've stripped down to only their underclothes and Reyna's looking down on her with an almost predatory look of lust and she has a knee on either side of Annabeth's legs. Annabeth tries to sit up, to kiss her, but Reyna pins her hands to the bed. Annabeth sends her a glare strong enough to topple her kingdom but Reyna doesn't yield. Instead, a grin spreads across her face like a half-maddened and overjoyed jack-o-lantern and the light behind her eyes burns brightly. Reyna nips at her ear and Annabeth holds back her whine.

When she bites down harder Annabeth lets out a whine of pleasure as the stimulation travels straight to her crotch. She lets out a groan of frustration and glares at Reyna. She wills her lover to do something, to finish the job that she has started, but Reyna's taking her own sweet, sweet time with it. Savoring every second with Annabeth coming apart underneath of her.

She presses her lips to Annabeth's and rubs her own roughly against them. Annabeth tries to lean in for more, to feed the fire inside of her that was consuming her. She needs to drag Reyna down with her, to allow the flame inside her to feed on Reyna as well, but Reyna breaks the kiss before it can consume her. Annabeth is screaming internally but this time, she doesn't allow the scream to escape her lips.

Before she even realizes it, one of her hands is free. She isn't able to do much about this, though, because Reyna's now free hand quickly slides into Annabeth's folds. Reyna's fingers start making skillful circles inside of her and she can barely contain the debauched noises that are trying to pour from her lips. As Reyna's finger continue in a distinct rhythm, allowing Annabeth's body to learn and follow it, Annabeth starts digging the fingers of her free hand in Reyna's bare back. _More, more, more_, her fingers scream and eventually her mouth joins in the chorus.

Reyna seems so pleased with herself but Annabeth doesn't care because she needs, she needs more and she can feel herself crossing the threshold. The world is white for a moment in a fit of pleasure before she comes to her senses. But once again, the world blurs like a new painting tarnished by water. The colors of the landscape melting together to form one before all colors fade completely and she is left with only black.


	3. Requiem for Reality

**Annabeth in Wonderland **

**Chapter Three: Requiem for Reality **

**A.N: Sorry that it's a bit later than I'd intended to post it, but I was very busy this weekend. Homecoming, Renaissance Fair, and quite a lot of other things, but it's up now and I hope that you enjoy it. And this is the last chapter of this story. **

**Disclaimer: Otherwise known as things that I don't own **

**1. Percy Jackson and the Olympians and/or the Heroes of Olympus **

**2. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland **

**3. Make a Move by Icon For Hire **

* * *

_Test my reality_

_Check if there's a weak spot_

_Clingin' to insanity_

_In hopes the world will ease up_

* * *

_Annabeth resurfaces in darkness. The air reeks of sulfur, and she can hear anguished cries and monsters' snarls. She examines her surroundings, unsure as to how she ended up here, wherever here may be. The near blackness is daunting and mortifying, but she instinctively grasps the knife attached to her hip. _

_Annabeth can hear a sword clanking behind her as she turns her head. She sees a boy fighting nigh unsuccessfully against a monster. His body is covered in constellations of cuts and bruises. She wants to call out to him, but the words die on her lips._

_He turns his head and sees her. A light flashes across his stormy green eyes and they shine like sunlight through sea-glass. _

_"Annabeth," he breathes, his voice like a prayer, "Annabeth, you're awake. Thank the gods." She tries to focus on his voice, because she isn't sure if this is simply a nightmare or reality, but she can feel herself slipping away. His voice becomes more frantic with his cries of "Annabeth! Annabeth!" But the world around her is already fading away, the decrescendo after the musical climax. She can feel herself slipping and she is in the hellhole no more._

* * *

Between her midnight activities with Reyna, time spent tracking down playing-card servants, settling disputes between talking animals and dishware, meandering through the gardens and her nightmares, she spots the dark figure with the large grin and dead eyes enough times for her to feel _followed. _When she gets lost in the ever-changing corridors of the palace and he always seems to be there, lurking in the shadows right around the corner. And soon after, she decides to confront him.

* * *

Annabeth turns to him and demands, "First you lead me here, and now you're following me, slinking about in the shadows and shit. What do you want?"

"You know," he says in a vague tone, though his eyes look concerned and pained. That same kaleidoscope of broken glass, like Reyna's before Annabeth came to soften them. He gave her the strangest feeling that they had met before, before Wonderland, in some other life perhaps?

"I've already met you," she mutters absently.

"Here in Wonderland?" he asks, "or before?"

"Both, I think," she says, though her head is starting to ache.

"That means two things," he replies, "One, the me that you met wasn't me. It was just an echo."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off, "And It means that you're remembering." He gently bites his lip in concentration.

"Remembering?" she asks, "Remembering what?"

"Reality," he says and then he starts to pace around the corridor.

"What do you even mean," she says, "this is reality, just a different sort. It's Wonderland."

"No," he says, shaking his head so that his shaggy black hair bobs around him, "this is a dream, Annabeth. You're dreaming."

"I can't be," she says, "I've gone to bed. I've done all these mundane things. I've dreamt. This _can't _be dream."

"What have you dreamt," he asks, the fear flooding into his eyes.

"That I was in some hellish world," she says, "and there's this boy, always a boy with me, fighting monsters. He knows my name."

"Annabeth," he says, "that's what's real."

"No," she says, suddenly grasping what this all means, "you aren't telling me-you can't be telling me that this is a dream? And that hellhole is my reality?"

"I'm sorry," he says, "I'm so sorry."

"If this is a dream," she says, "then why are you telling me this? Aren't you just a figment of my imagination?"

"Yes, well, no, not really. The me you met earlier was, but I'm real, well, as real as you are. I'm the son of Hades," he says, "I can enter the dreams of the dying."

"I'm dying?" she asks, trying to prevent her breathing from speeding up, "you're telling me that I'm dying in your world?"

"I'm sorry," he says yet again, "I'm so sorry."

"You came here to tell me that my whole life is a lie and that I'm a dead woman?" she asks, "Is Reyna fake? God, can you fucking tell me anything useful?"

"Everyone here is real," he says, "in theory. They're caricatures of people that you once knew, if you cranked up the crazy. Kind of like the dream in the Wizard of Oz."

"What," she asks, her anger seeping into her tone.

"Never mind," he replies, "the point is that this isn't really real."

"What did you even come here to tell me?" she shouts, "or did you just come to dismantle my life?"

"I came," he says, "because you deserved to know the truth before you have to make your decision."

"Can you tell me what that decision's going to be?" she asks, "or are you just going to be a cryptic little bastard about it! Fuck-why am I even considering what you're saying! You're the maddest of us all!"

"Yeah, you're right. I am mad. But you believe me. Deep down you know that this isn't right. You can feel it. That's why you're still listening to my ramblings. And for the record, it's a decision between your own life and the fate of the world," he says, "And this dream, it was created to entice you to choose the world. But I came here because I thought you deserved the option." A look in his eyes told her that he hadn't done it for her.

"Percy," he said, his voice straining, "Percy will never be the same if he loses you. He'll be _broken." _The _like me_ was left unspoken. And all of a sudden it all made sense. The boy from her hell dreams was Percy, and he, probably, loved her. But Nico loved Percy, and he had to least try to save her. For him.

"I can't tell you when," he says, "or what or why. Gods, I don't even have the time. I think that I'll be kicked out of your world for interfering soon enough."

He turns his head around suspiciously and says, "Remember reality, Annabeth. People tend to get lost in paradises. Trust me. I'd know." And he melts into the shadows like smoke in the wind.

* * *

_Annabeth's gray eyes open to the infernal world of her nightmare. Or as she more recently learned her reality? The thought makes her shutter as she starts to regain her bearings. Percy has his hands on her shoulders and he's shaking her. _

_"Annabeth," he says, his frantic voice cracking under the pressure, "You have to stay awake. We're almost through." He notices that her eyes are open. _

_"Annabeth," he begs, his voice coasting quickly between fear and Hope, "You're awake." But she feels dizzy once again. _

_"Not a-fucking-gain," he screams, shaking her more violently, "Anna, Anna stay with me." But his cries are muffled as Annabeth's consciousness flies away from that place._

* * *

She visits the hellish world for short blurbs of time, but otherwise life continues as it normally does. She tries to keep hold of what the boy had told her, but as her days blur together the conversation gets foggier and foggier. She falls back into her routine with Reyna but she doesn't forget the conversation. Though many of her memories have dissolved, flying away like dust in the wind, she still remembers too much. She remembers the monster-filled Underworld and Percy fighting for his life and the fact that this isn't real. No matter how much she would kill for Reyna to really be here and to really love her so, it isn't real and she feels terrible for enjoying the illusion so much. She wishes that she could reset the clock because nothing makes sense, even more so now as she wanders her paradise with her fears and memories and the occasional interruption from the depths of perdition.

* * *

"Are you alright," Reyna asks one day as they meander through the baroque mazes of roses red and oak trees.

"What do you mean?" Annabeth asks, though she already knows. The nightmares and a sense of foreboding, _you will have to make your decision_ and the fact that her little Eden is a dream and that Reyna isn't really real and that she wants to scream.

"You seem," the queen says, pausing for a moment to locate the right word.

"Off," she finally decides, "Like you've got some heavy weight on your shoulders."

"No heavy weight on these shoulders," she says, "I'm not holding the sky." It sends a twinge of odd and unrecognizable emotions through her that she pushes away.

"Just-," Reyna says, "Just know that you can talk to me." Her eyes look concerned, and suddenly, the golden crown atop her head seems as though it might be weighing her down.

* * *

_The darkness extends like the wind, whooshing into every corner of her mind. The tortured screams and creatures roars claw at her eardrums as she awakes yet again in that cursed Underworld. _

_She can hear the whispers on the breeze, "You're damned, little one. You'll never get out and we'll tear you to pieces. Rip you limb from limb." She can hear Percy's anguished cries as he stabs another monster, but she can also see something at the end of the tunnel. It looks a bit like a set of oaken doors, but her dream is cut abruptly once more._

* * *

"I love you, Reyna," she says one day whilst they lied in bed. Reyna's lying down with her eyes closed and her eyelashes fluttering slightly. Annabeth's almost convinced that Reyna's asleep before she notices her smile.

_Sneaky thing. _

She isn't sure why she has to say it now, but it feels like the day of reckoning is upon her and she might not have another chance. So she seizes this one, and she wraps her arms around Reyna, taking in the soft, vanilla scent of her hair and the warm comfort of their bodies pressed together. She tries to forget for a moment that this isn't _real, _because it's real to her, damn it, and she'll have her fucking moment.

* * *

_She holds her breath and resurfaces in her nightmarish reality once more. Percy's carrying her bridal style through the smoky sulfur stenched air that echoes with that same cadence of suffering. His arms feel comforting. For the first time in the longest while she finds her voice in this world. _

_"I'm up, Seaweed Brain," she says in what sounds like teasing exasperation, though she doesn't know where the words came from and she's more petrified than annoyed. His eyes light up like blue-green lanthorns at a festival dedicated just to her. _

_"I thought-," he says, his voice cracking, "Fucking gods, Annabeth. You're alright, really, really alright. We're almost out." She wants to leave with him. Annabeth really does. She wants to make his puppy dog eyes innocent and happy again, but the memories come flooding back to her. Times that she laughed with this boy, times she cried, a life time of pain and joy hitting her like a truck. She remembers meeting Reyna, the praetor of Camp Jupiter with the battle hardened expression and the sweet tooth and she understands why she was there. Why she was so perfect, because maybe she was a little bit in love with both of them. And something else hits her as she sees the doors, the fabled doors that spell both life and death. _

**_Doors open from both sides. _**

**_Doors open from both sides. _**

_This is her decision. Her great test, this is the moment that Nico, that was his name, had warned her about. She would have to close them herself, allow Percy to, or watch the world burn. She knows in an instant what she had to do, to protect her reality and have one last glimpse of her dream. _

_The doors were within her reach and she was struggling behind Percy, monsters at their tails. She slams the door open and waits for Percy to go through. Then she slams it behind him. She leans her back against the door, keeping her weight against it and keeping it effectively shut. She can already hear his pounding against the door, and his screams of, "Annabeth! Annabeth! Don't you fucking dare! Annabeth!" She hears the gleeful snarls, growls and roars of the monsters. Annabeth takes a deep breath as the world fades for what might be the last time._

* * *

She awakes in their large, soft bed with head pillowed on Reyna's stomach. She remembers her dream, and she knows that the end is marching closer and closer by the minute. Reyna awakens and she murmurs to Annabeth as the girl kisses her full on the lips. Their lips brush together with electricity and intensity like the many other times that they've done it, only this time is more beautiful in a frantic sort of way.

"I love you," Annabeth asserts, "I don't even care that this isn't real. I love you, Reyna, and this sweet dream." Reyna looks momentarily confused, but when Annabeth kisses her again, she leans into it, moving her lips forcefully against Annabeth's.

The two kiss as the Titanic sinks around them, as the fires of Pompeii consume her Wonderland, and Annabeth can't bring herself to care. Percy will be safe, and there's only her dream of Reyna and her soft, dark locks between Annabeth's fingers as the world goes dark one last time.


End file.
